Date Night
by NotThatIWillEverWriteIt
Summary: Oikawa reached to give a quick peck on Hajime's cheek and lingered near his pulse point, nuzzling the sensitive skin with his nose. Hajime could smell the anchovies and tangy beer on his breath.


Hajime glanced at Oikawa dozing against his shoulder. The glowing blue flicker of the TV screen danced on his face, and a thin thread of drool stretched out between his parted lips and landed on Hajime's shirt.

So far, the night had been a bust.

He had ordered them a family-sized pizza loaded with meat - and anchovies for Oikawa's half – but despite the instructions to keep the fish strictly one-sided, the pizzeria had managed to mess it up. So, instead of feasting on spicy sausage, he had spent the night picking anchovies off where it had no business being. Oikawa, on the other hand, had happily munched Hajime's share, too.

Buying alcohol had been a mistake. Oikawa had washed down the salty fish pizza with a couple cans of cheap beer, and before long his eyelids had begun to droop, and he had nodded off.

So there sat Hajime now, hungry and serving as a human Petri dish, and watched a pointless-on-all-levels remake of some alien flick he had only rented because he knew how much Oikawa had wanted to see it.

And it wasn't like this was their first free night together for weeks because of Oikawa's ridiculous training schedule and Hajime's part-time job, so it was completely fine that Oikawa was missing all of it.

With an annoyed huff he paused the movie, and the sudden silence, weirdly enough, woke Oikawa up. He came to with a sharp intake of breath.

"Hey, I was watching that," he mumbled.

"If you're tired, go to bed."

"Hmm, here's fine." He adjusted on Hajime's shoulder again. "Iwa-chan is warm and smells nice."

"You drooled on me, Slobberkawa. Gross."

"Oikawa-san is never gross."

Hajime glanced at the clock and counted that if they went to bed now they'd get 8 whole hours together before Oikawa had to get up for his morning run and then to the gym. He'd come back home just in time to send Hajime off to his evening shift. As much as Hajime would never admit it, he had really been looking forward to the quiet night at home. He stared at the frozen picture of a CGI alien just about to beam some poor bastard and suppressed a disappointed sigh.

"I'm sorry for ruining the date night," Oikawa said quietly.

"It wasn't a date night."

"But for what it's worth, I appreciated the thought."

"Wasn't thinking anything."

Oikawa reached to give a quick peck on Hajime's cheek and lingered near his pulse point, nuzzling the sensitive skin with his nose. Hajime could smell the anchovies and tangy beer on his breath. "Of course you weren't."

Hajime's groin stirred when Oikawa started to press lazy kisses on the side of his neck and slipped a hand under the hem of his T-shirt. Moist breath against his throat and a warm hand that wasn't his own edging closer to his waistband made all the lights go off in Hajime's sex-deprived mind. It had been so long since they had made any physical contact other than falling asleep on each other that Hajime didn't care how needy it looked when he rubbed himself against Oikawa's hand. Give him a couple minutes, and he could probably come just from this.

"You want to finish the movie?" Oikawa whispered and his hot breath tickled Hajime's ear.

"You stop, and I will kill you."

"I have to say you're quite a sight right now, Iwa-chan. The way you're biting your lip and rolling your hips."

"No need for the narra-" The rest got stuck in Hajime's throat when Oikawa's hand finally reached its destination in his pants and twisted a couple test strokes. The angle was awkward because of the waistband, and Oikawa's hand was dry and a little cold, but it was the best thing Hajime had had for weeks.

"Mmm, maybe you're right." Oikawa slid off the couch and nudged Hajime's knees apart, so he could fit between them. "Maybe I should put my mouth to better use." The next thing Hajime knew, Oikawa had fished him out of his pants and swallowed him down.

The sudden hot wet cavity closing around him drove the last coherent thought out of Hajime's head. His hand reached down on its own, and fingers automatically twisted in Oikawa's soft hair. With each head bob, Oikawa eased himself closer to Hajime's groin until he gagged. Hajime loosened his hold, and Oikawa pulled back with a gasp. A little out of breath, he licked his swollen lips and wiped off the few tears that had rolled down his cheeks.

"Damn it, that was weak," he said hoarsely. "I wanted to try to beat my old record - remember that one time? - but I guess you're too far gone for that."

Before Hajime could put two words together in his mushed-up mind, Oikawa sank down again. This time he swallowed Hajime down easier, and his nose brushed the rough pubic hair. Hajime groaned and agreed that he was in no shape for record-breaking tonight.

With an obscene wet pop, Oikawa pulled Hajime out of his mouth and looked up at him with watery eyes.

"You're starting to taste like anchovies," he said with a smirk. "Yum."

Hajime swore if he hadn't been so desperate for a release, the idea of dipping himself in Oikawa's fishy, salty mouth wouldn't have curled his toes like it did now.

The third time Oikawa pushed himself down, Hajime could feel the familiar tumble near his tailbone. He was a few good strokes away from coming undone. His hands came hold Oikawa's head in place, and Oikawa stuck his tongue out and received Hajime hitting the back of this throat with as much grace as possible. There was no pretty way of doing this.

Then, a grunt and a breathy "Tooru" later, it was over.

Hajime slumped on the couch, and Oikawa pulled away coughing. Quickly he picked up an empty beer can and spat whatever he hadn't swallowed in it.

"Yuck." He smacked his lips and made a face. "That I'll never get used to."

"You've swallowed grosser things," Hajime remarked halfheartedly, immersed in the afterglow. Bones sucked out of him and his eyelids getting heavier by the second, he laid on the couch, and all was good in the world.

"I take it you're not going to return the favor."

"Jus' gimme a minute."

Oikawa got up and brushed his hand through Hajime's spiky hair. "You just close your eyes, big guy, there's always later."

The favor he was due to return dug against the small of Hajime's back the next morning when he woke up on the couch with Oikawa pressed tightly behind him.


End file.
